


Do You Want Me To Beg? Because I'm Begging

by joinallthefandoms



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Begging, Chains, Dom/sub, Flashbacks, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Revenge, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Submission, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joinallthefandoms/pseuds/joinallthefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 2, episode 18: Deathstroke.<br/>When Slade is brought into the interrogation room after kidnapping Thea, Oliver does something he thought he'd never have to do again.<br/>He begs.<br/>(basically what I'd hoped would happen after this encounter between Oliver and Slade)<br/>References to a past relationship between Slade and Oliver before Shado showed up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Want Me To Beg? Because I'm Begging

_"She never did anything to you. I did. Shado is dead because of the choices I made, so punish ME, blame ME. But Thea..." Oliver cried, trying and failing to keep the tears from falling down his face._

_"Do you want me to beg? Is that what this is all about? Because I'm begging. You win. Just please, please tell me where she is." Fuck his pride. What good would his pride do him when Thea was dead?_

_"That must have been hard for you to say." Slade's lips quirked up in an uncharacteristic grin._

"It always was so hard for you to beg, wasn't it, Ollie?" Slade taunted, his one eye practically shimmering with malevolence and arrogance. 

"I get what you're trying to prove now. I get it, okay? You've won, Slade. You've beaten me, you've broken me. What more do you want?"

"I want your soul, kid. And, as far as I've seen, a large part of it exists inside that sister of yours."

"There are a lot of ways to take a man's soul, Slade. Fryers taught us that. Take my soul. Do whatever you want with me, and I swear I'll comply. I'll obey. Do whatever you need to do in order to get my soul, just, please don't take Thea's too."

Slade contemplated his offer, a pensive look falling over his face. If his hands were unbound, he might have stroked his chin. "You're not much different now than you were on the island, kid. You're an arrogant, prideful petulant child. Why should I indulge a child's tantrum?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE ANGRY WITH ME!" Oliver screamed, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. "Because you're mad at me, and you have been for 5 years. If you really wanted to hurt me by hurting my family, Thea and my mom would be dead by now. I know that's not the game you're playing here. I know what you really want, Slade."

"Pray, do tell," Slade said, his voice low and dangerous. "What do I want, kid? Seeing as I clearly have no idea myself."

Oliver sighed and ran a hand down his weary face. "You want me broken. You want to see my break under your hand, just like I broke Shado. You want to use that Mira Kuru surging through you to torture me. This isn't about Thea or Moira or Felicity, Diggle, or Roy. This is about you and me. It's always been about you and me." Slade didn't speak for several minutes. To Oliver, it felt like a lifetime. 

"I'll tell you where Thea is," Slade offered, leaning back in his chair. Oliver's heart leaped into his throat. "If-" and his heart sank back into his stomach. 

"If what?" Oliver asked.

"If, when I come calling at your little underground Batcave tomorrow evening, you are alone, weaponless, and willing. Do we understand one another, kid?"

"I understand," Oliver said in a gravelly tone. He didn't give himself time to think about it. He was afraid he might refuse out of fear. 

"You can find Thea at this address..."

**...**

An hour later Thea was home safe. Oliver wrapped his little sister in his embrace, crying into the top of her head. Their family was reconciled, if only for one more day. After all the news hooplah and all the microphones shoved in his face, Oliver went up to his room in the Queen Mansion and sat down on his bed. 

He didn't regret his decision for a second. Thea was young, innocent, and smart. He knew that she would go on to make an honest living, become a great young woman and maybe even a mother some day. She truly was the best of the Queen family. Oliver had killed many people, done many terrible things. If anyone deserved to be tortured by Slade Wilson, it was surely him. 

But that didn't mean Oliver wasn't scared as hell. 

He was scared of Slade even without the Mira Kuru. He was a trained assassin, and a brilliant one at that. Even with all his training and all his working out, Oliver knew that he would be no match for even the normal Slade. He was outmatched. He was beaten. Maybe it was better this way.

Oliver didn't sleep that night. He knew that it was in his best interest to sleep and conserve energy for what was surely going to be a tiring night tomorrow, but he just couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. Whether it was fear or lack of fatigue, Oliver didn't know. He just knew that he wasn't going to be sleeping tonight. So, he did what he always did when he couldn't sleep: he worked out. 

He took off his pajama shirt and dropped to the floor to start doing push-ups. He breezed through 75 before he really started working up a sweat. The muscles of his back tensed as he went up and down, his breathing hard. His abs flexed and ached as he continued past the pain. His arms and shoulders screamed at him to stop, but he paid it no mind. On the island, Slade would have told him to "keep going, sissy boy". So he did. He pushed and grit his teeth until he could do it no longer. His arms gave way and he fell to the hardwood floor with a smack, the sweat dripping off his face. 

But it wasn't enough. He started doing sit ups, and then he started doing pull ups from a bar he'd had installed. The exercise helped to calm him down. His head was always racing, and especially at a time like this, but he wasn't able to focus on much other than his aching muscles. Hours passed until he looked over to his alarm clock to find that it was nearly 3 in the morning. As he gasped through each pull-up, he thought back to the island, where he and Slade were lovers rather than enemies. 

_"You cannot be this weak, kid," Slade sighed. "It's physically impossible."_

_"Apparently not," Oliver grunted, failing yet again at doing a single pull up. "Because I still haven't done it."_

_"What have I told you about that snarky tone of yours?"_

_"That you think it's sexy." Oliver wagged his eyebrows at Slade, who was waiting back down on the ground. His mentor rolled his eyes and didn't even crack a smile. Typical._

_"You know what'd be sexier?" Slade said, flirtation creeping into his gruff Aussie tone. Oliver looked down in anticipation. "A man with the upper body strength that can actually top that of a toddler." Ouch._

_"I'm trying!" Oliver protested, his arms starting to ache with the effort of holding himself on the branch._

_"You're gonna be the reason I die, kid. I can see into the future, and it is bleak as hell."_

_"For a mentor, you're not being very motivational."_

_"If I were motivating you the right way, kid, you would have died weeks ago."_

_"My arms hurt!"_

_"Well, that's unfortunate. Because the two of us are going to wait here until you manage to do a pull up from that branch."_

_"That's not fair."_

_"Life's not fair."_

Oliver smirked. Slade was always so aloof, so untouchable. When he first got to the island, Oliver was sure that the man was asexual, or something like that. Even through Oliver's teasing touches and flirting, he didn't respond. Until he did. 

_Oliver and Slade were huddled around the fire they'd built in the plane, Slade sitting in silence and Oliver staring at his picture of Laurel._

_"That girl of yours," Slade said, not taking his pensive gaze off the fire. "Are you two serious?"_

_"I guess you could say that." Oliver really didn't want to get into that story right now._

_"So you've only been with women?" Slade's monotone voice betrayed nothing. Oliver quirked an eyebrow as he considered the question, trying to figure out if he was better suited to lie or tell the truth._

_"No point in lying, kid," Slade said, finally shifting his gaze to look Oliver dead in the eyes. "There are no secrets on this island."_

_"There were a few men here and there," Oliver admitted, shrugging his shoulders and trying to keep the blush from rising to his cheeks. "I dabbled in a bit of everything."_

_"And you bottomed when you were with these men." It sounded to Oliver's ears like that should have been a question, but Slade's slight knowing smirk told him that it wasn't. It was an accusation, really._

_"And you know this how? I might have been the top. You don't know." Oliver didn't know if he was supposed to be offended that Slade assumed that he was the bottom. In fairness, he was always the bottom, but he sure as hell wasn't going to admit it now that Slade had that stupid sexy arrogant smirk on his face._

_"Have you ever looked yourself in the mirror, kid?"_

_"Recently? No. You see, we're on a deserted isl-" Oliver began.  
_

_"Everything about you screams 'bottom'," Slade cut him off as if he hadn't heard Oliver speak at all. "You're submissive and obedient. I could watch you top a guy right here, right now, and I still wouldn't believe you."_

_"I could top you right here, right now," Oliver challenged. "Would you believe me then?"_

_Slade laughed the fullest, most genuine laugh Oliver had ever heard from him. "I certainly invite you to try, kid."_

Oliver sighed before padding over to his bed, where he sank into the sheets. The fond memories played through his mind like he had put them on a DVD. 

_Fuck, it was going so badly. Oliver didn't know what he was doing. Why was it so hard to top?_

_"If you need me to take over, kid, all you need to do is ask," Slade said in an almost bored tone. Oliver grunted in frustration as he failed to find the man's prostate. Even he wasn't that hard, if he was being honest. It was just so much easier to be a bottom._

_"Fine. Take over," Oliver said, pulling out. Slade's eyes regained that fiery danger that Oliver had seen earlier, down at the stream._

_"Only if you ask nicely," Slade said, reaching a hand down to stroke Oliver's half hard cock. Oliver leaned into his touch, craving the friction of Slade's calloused hand. Slade grinned as he worked his boy up  with smooth, fluid movements of his hand. Soon enough, Oliver was panting._

_"Do you want me to fuck you, boy?" Slade growled in Oliver's ear before he bit down hard on his boy's shoulder._

_"Yes, Slade. Fuck me,"  Oliver panted, thrusting his hips into his mentor's hand wantonly._

_"'Yes, Slade'?" Slade said, mimicking Oliver. "No, that doesn't sound right."_

_"Fuck you," Oliver said._

_"Only if you behave." Slade's strokes had slowed down so much that it seemed to Oliver that they had stopped altogether. He bit down on his lip to suppress his cries of frustration. Slade's fingers danced, feather-light, over Oliver's rock hard cock._

Oliver pulled down his pajama pants as he remembered his time with Slade. His hand circled his swelling cock as he faded into a memory. 

_"Fuck me, Slade," Oliver said. He would not say please. He would not beg. He simply refused._

_"If you're too stubborn to say 'please', maybe you don't deserve to be fucked. Maybe you don't deserve to come at all."_

_"You don't get to decide if I come or not," Oliver protested. He brushed Slade's hand aside with his own, but before his hand could reach his throbbing cock, Slade gripped it tightly. Too tightly, actually. Way too tight- FUCK. That hurt._

_"But I do," Slade growled, persisting in his unrelenting grasp on Oliver's penis. "You come with my permission, or you don't come at all. And good boys only get permission when they ask nicely."_

_"So you're just gonna sit there all night and watch to make sure I don't come."_

_"I know you're not gonna come," Slade said, beginning to stroke himself. "Because I know you don't have the balls to defy me or any of the orders I give you. I also know that you don't want to be punished, do you?"_

_Oliver didn't answer. He just sat there, his dick flushed up against his stomach, just waiting there. He ached for friction, for any kind of touch, but Slade was right. He was too good to defy an order. But that did't mean that he didn't have enough pride to wait this out._

_"Are you really gonna do this to yourself, kid?" Slade asked, his own cock becoming more and more erect with every lavish stroke. "Watch me get off while you wait there, your dick hard with nowhere to go?"_

_"Or would you rather give in?" said Slade, taunting his boy with the way he licked his lips and rolled his eyes with the pleasure his own hand was giving him. "And go stupid in the head as I fuck you into the ground? Would you rather wait all night for your little problem to go away, or let me take care of it? Do you want to be able to walk tomorrow, kid? Because, the way I'm going to fuck you, you might never walk again, let alone touch yourself without my permission._

_Oliver couldn't take it anymore. Slade's cock was fully erect, and he was just toying with it. His own cock hadn't softened any in this little intermission of theirs. In fact, he thought he had even gotten harder._

_"Please, Slade," he begged, looking into the man's dark brown eyes with his own baby blue ones. "Please fuck me."_

_"You're halfway there," Slade taunted, still palming his erection._

_If the words had fallen off his tongue any easier, or had tasted any sweeter, Oliver might have melted. "Please, sir."_

_"Was that so hard?" Slade cooed._

Oliver gave his hand one final twist and he came with a muffled cry, a wad of the blanket stuffed into his mouth to avoid waking his mother. "Oh fuck, Slade!" He cried into the blanket, coming over his chest and hand. He hastily cleaned himself off with a tissue before he fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep. 

 

 

 


End file.
